


This Tub Wasn't Made For Two

by Nigaki



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: 80's Music, Alternate Universe - Bikers, Bathing/Washing, Bathtub Sex, Biker Arthur Morgan, Biker John Marston, Blow Jobs, But they exist, Deepthroating, Divorce, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Foot Fetish, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Cheating, John is a Mess, Light Angst, M/M, MorstonWeek2020, Protective John Marston, Romantic Fluff, Set in the '80s, Small, Smut, but I still feel like Quentin Tarantino, no one actually rides a bike in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaki/pseuds/Nigaki
Summary: John wakes up, takes a shower, makes breakfast for himself and his boyfriend, goes to pick up said boyfriend from work and somehow ends with another bath. But he doesn't mind, except maybe his jeans getting ruined and the bathroom getting flooded.Written for Morston Week Prompt - Bathing Together.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Kudos: 23
Collections: Morston Week 2020





	This Tub Wasn't Made For Two

**Author's Note:**

> The story reference situations that didn't happen yet but they may one day when I decide to turn this one shot into a story. I have the whole idea and crucial plot points written but I don't know if I have time for another long story right now. So for now this is a stand alone.

John woke up to an early sun hitting his face through the open window. Running from the light, he rolled to the empty side of the bed and breathed in a familiar smell there, disappointed his body didn’t collide with another one sleeping peacefully next to him. Unfortunately, Arthur had a night shift and John had to spend the whole night alone.

He lay like that for a few more minutes, listening to birds outside and the neighbor’s dog barking on the other side of the street. With eyes still sleepy, he watched the arms of the clock moving slowly, getting closer to pointing at 6 a.m. and announcing that John should really get up. But it was still a few more minutes for that so he just sighed and sank into the cool sheets, closing his eyes again.

Next time he opened them, it was because of the paperboy ringing like crazy while delivering the newspaper on his bike. One of them hit the door of John’s home with a loud thump. John groaned and rolled back to his side of the bed, laying sprawled on almost the entire thing. Knowing that no more sleep would come to him, he sat on the bad and looked at the clock. He turned it off so he wouldn’t have to run for it in a hurry, dripping wet because he would be in the shower.

John laced his fingers together and stretched his hands high above his head, hearing the joints pop and muscles releasing the tension that cumulated in them through the whole night. One of his hands he lowered back, with the other, he brushed his hair, making it even more messy than it no doubt already was. With how much he liked to turn in bed while he slept, it was impossible to keep his hair even mildly neat.

When the clock showed 6 oclock, John got up finally, stretching again and went to the bathroom. Because he was already naked, he just stepped into the tub and turned on the shower head to wash himself quickly. He had no time for a longer bath.

Water was still hot when he stepped out, smelling of cheap soap that they bought on sale in the amount of twenty bars. It was being sold for five cents, who wouldn’t jump on the opportunity like that?

John dried himself from head to toe with the towel and put it away to dry. Still naked, he walked to the sink and the mirror above it, first making his hair more presentable and then brushing his teeth. He should shave too but he didn’t want to, so he just left the stubble as it was and reentered their bedroom, going straight to the closet.

Arthur’s side was neatly organized while his was a complete mess. Yet he had no problems with finding his favorite black jeans and sleeveless white shirt so he could show off his tattoos that were covering both of his arms. The one on the right was finished while the one on the left still needed to be filled with color but his tattoo artist was out of town, visiting her sick relative in Minneapolis.

Still barefoot, John left the bedroom and moved to a small kitchen and started the express to make coffee and after that, turned on the radio, already playing their favorite station. _Let’s Go Crazy_ by Prince filled the tight space with music. John swayed his hips a little and singed the lyrics softly with Prince while making sandwiches for himself and Arthur.

Coffee was soon ready and he was about to purr himself a cup when he heard the knock, barely audible over the music and he stopped his dancing. Licking his fingers from the peanut butter, he went to open the door, not caring about the music still playing in the background.

The postman was standing on the other side, shuffling through the mail he had in his hand. “There is a mail slot, you know?” John pointed at the door and leaned against the door frame. 

The man looked up at him with a glare. He wasn't someone new, John had seen this guy already, many times actually. So why the hell did he interrupted John’s dancing?

“This needs your signature,” the postman explained, showing him a paper to sign and a pen with it.

John frowned, taking the pen reluctantly. Usually all he and Arthur were receiving in the mail were bills or some adverts. And mechanic magazine subscription. But none required a signature. Still puzzled, John put his signature on the paper and in return, the postman gave him a big and stiff yellow envelope, along with two regular white ones.

“Good day,” the man said and turned around to get the rest of the mail.

“You too,” John mumbled under his breath and picked the newspaper first, he closed the door, looking at the yellow envelope confused. He took it back to the kitchen where _You Can’t Stop Rock ‘n’ Roll_ started playing. While curious about what was in the envelope, John put it on the table in the corner for now, along with the newspaper and returned to make breakfast. He finished quickly, purred himself a cup of coffee and after placing Arthur’s sandwiches in the fridge for now, John finally sat down by the table and with one hand holding a pb&j sandwich, he used the other one to open the envelope, which turned out to be quite a challenge with only one hand. After a few seconds of struggling with it, he was already too proud to use the second hand and stubbornly kept using only one till he opened the damn thing.

Smiling smugly, he pulled a few pages that were inside and his smile dropped the moment he saw what it was.

Divorce papers, signed already, all that was needed was his signature too and the marriage he was trapped in for five years would be gone. He would be free.

The shock he felt at first moved to make a space for the relief and joy. He was so glad it was over now and Abigail and him could finally move on with their life. He already did, for a year now, the paper once written in front of the official was nothing to him, it had no control over him and it didn’t stop him from leaving with Arthur, but he felt lighter without it, like he could finally close the door of the past instead of leaving it crack open all the time. And it was an amazing feeling to finally belong fully to Arthur and Arthur not having to share him with a wife, even if only on the paper. And even if they couldn’t confirm their bond in front of the official like any other couple.

The longer he waited for those papers, the more he was worried about Abigail too. Their marriage was a nightmare but there were times when he could talk to her like with a friend. He liked to consider her that, a friend, though Abigail most likely hated his guts now. That’s why he was pushing for the divorce so much, he wanted her to be free too, to find someone who would make her happy like he found someone, even though her family wouldn’t approve another marriage. They were even against that divorce, they told him that right away, Abigail’s father said he would never allow for it to happen. 

John wondered what changed his mind. If anything did. Abigail knew how to be persistent.

While the marriage could finally be over, he would still have to pay child support which was mentioned in the documents. That was fine. He didn’t have a steady job but he was earning enough money to manage and still have money to buy vinyl’s, bike parts or more tattoos. Maybe even piercings? He was thinking about some in his ears for the start.

Grinning like a madman, he carefully put the papers back in the envelope and put them in the drawer. The kitchen was small enough he didn’t even have to get up, he just turned. When he woke up he didn’t expect that day to be so great, he couldn’t wait to tell Arthur the great news and then sign the papers.

When the speaker on the radio reminded John what time it was, John hurriedly finished his breakfast and coffee, almost choking on the last drops. He put the plate and a cup in the sink to wash it later, and quickly put Arthur’s sandwiches in the lunch box.

After turning off the radio and grabbing the keys to both house and the truck, John left the house with a lunch box under his arm and locked the door after himself. He was just crossing the stripe of grass between the front door and the garage when he realized his feet were weirdly cold.

Cursing, he returned to the house, fumbling with the keys in his hurry. At first he tried to open it with the car keys and he almost dropped the lunch box which would without a doubt resulted in it breaking to pieces. Cheap plastic was easy to destroy but it was cheap, so hey.

Finally he entered the house again and after placing everything on the small table near the door, he ran to the bedroom to pull a pair of socks from the dresser. He didn’t look which he took but when he was pulling them one, he realized they were Arthur’s. Doesn’t matter, their feet were the only thing they had the same size so they fit. John only recognized it was Arthur’s because they were really worn out but still intact. Arthur liked to replace stuff only when they had holes in them, opposite to Abigail who was making John buy new socks every few months, that’s why his were almost brand new. 

John ran back to the door, sliding the last few feet on the slippery floor, stopping right next to the table and his boots standing right next to it. Despite it being the middle of the summer, John was walking everywhere in his black motorcycle boots and this time was no exception.

When he was sure he wouldn’t lose them, he grabbed everything in his arms again and he could finally leave. He opened the side door to the garage and entered, ignoring his and Arthur’s Harleys and instead going for the light blue pick-up truck that belonged to Arthur. John put the keys into ignition, placed the lunch box on the passenger seat and went to open the garage. He hated that he had to go out again after getting the truck outside, they really needed to think about automatic doors, he only heard good things about those and they would be able to close the garage without leaving the truck or the bikes. They could even install it together, they knew their way around electronics, they would only have to pay for the thing.

He decided he would look up the automatic door later today, while Arthur would be sleeping off the night.

John was just leaving their neighborhood when he realized he didn’t have his driver license with him. Oh well, hopefully no patrol would decide to check him. Which was unlikely because he was driving like a maniac to not be late to pick up Arthur from the bar.

Thankfully no police stopped him and he managed to arrive at the bar five minutes earlier. He was still angry at himself for being this late, Arthur was probably already done, it was never that much to do at this hour and the day shift was already taking over.

The bar was on the other side of town, slightly out of it, near the highway. It was a popular place for travelers, locals and bikers. Two different gangs liked to drink here, including the one that Arthur rode with a few years back and within which he still had many friends.

The bar was closed already, it was always closing at 5 and for the next two hours the staff was cleaning and preparing to open at 7. At 10 if it was Sunday. During the day this place was basically a diner with motorcycle themes and with rock music playing constantly from the speakers.

The parking lot was empty at this hour. If not counting a local drunk, called Uncle, who liked to come here, beg for a free beer and then drink it at the back, then coming inside again and doing all of the previous steps again till he would have enough. Everyone knew him, everyone hated him and yet he was always there, always ending with free beers.

“I don’t remember this bar without him,” Arthur admitted once. “Ever since I knew, he was always there.”

John watched Uncle while walking by to the main door and knocking. One of the waitresses working during the day opened him, ready to inform whoever it was that the bar was closed. The scowl disappeared from her face when she recognized him.

“Oh, hi John,” she greeted and stepped aside to let him in. “You’re here for Arthur?”

“Hi, Tilly,” he said back with a smile. “Yeah, he’s ready to go?”

Most likely. Arthur always couldn’t wait to be off the night shift.

“I didn’t see him yet, you must ask Hosea,” Tilly informed him and went back to cleaning tables from stains of beer and emptying the ash trays. It was Friday yesterday which meant a busy night. That’s why Arthur agreed to help and he would do that again tonight. Saturdays were hell too.

This wasn't Arthur's job, he didn’t have any just like John but the bar belonged to a man who adopted him when Arthur was only thirteen so whenever they were low on employees and Arthur was back in town at the moment, he would help. John helped a lot as well since he came here, usually working behind the bar and making sure the girls weren't harassed, no matter which, be that the one working here or the one coming to the bar to have fun. He liked to sing and play on his guitar for the patrons as well.

Arthur was a serving drinks too but he also doubled as a bouncer and occasionally, also dealing with paperwork, but that during day, not at night during weekends and in the middle of summer at that.

At night, the bar was full of people and dimmed, during the day, when sunlight was entering through windows, it was almost like a completely different place. John was always surprised with how the bar looked then so he took some time to look around before he finally located Hosea by the ‘employees only’ door that led to the kitchen near the bar. He was talking with someone and signing some papers.

“Thank you, have a nice day,” Hosea said to a man and turned when he heard John approaching. “John, my boy, how are you?”

John smiled at the man, feeling warm after such enthusiastic greeting. Hosea was a great man, he quickly liked John and most importantly, approved his relationship with Arthur. He was the kind of father John always dreamed of when he was stuck in the orphanage through most of his childhood.

“Great.” He still couldn’t contain his smile after receiving divorce papers. “Arthur’s ready?”

“He’s in my office taking a nap. Just don’t freak out when you see him.”

John got worried immediately. “Why? What happened?”

“You know how it is,” Hosea started explaining with a calm voice. “Some Casanova wannabe didn’t want to leave the girl alone, Arthur intervened, they threw some punches, Arthur wasn’t hit even once but when he kicked the guy outside, the bastard suddenly pulled a knife.”

“Oh my god.”

Hosea told him not to freak out but he was already doing that. Just what exactly happened to Arthur?!

“He’s okay,” Hosea assured him. The tone of his voice was telling just that but John couldn’t help but worry anyway. “It was just some cheap swiss knife. A cat scratched Arthur deeper once but we still needed to bandage his arms. But he’s fine.”

John wasn't going to believe till he would see him. He rushed past chuckling Hosea and into the kitchen. He apologized after knocking into the cook, Pearson, and ran through the open door into Hosea’s office.

“Jesus!” Arthur startled when John just barged in like that. He was laying on the sofa and looked confused at John. “The hell are you jumping into here for?” he asked, rubbing his face, using the bandaged hand. His forearm was covered in the middle and John could see a faint pink in the place where the knife slashed Arthur.

“Are you okay?” John asked and came closer, sitting next to him.

“What are you talking about?” Arthur was still half asleep after John woke him up so suddenly.

“Your arm.” John nodded at the limb and without asking, brought it closer to examine the bandage.

“Oh, that.” Arthur yawned before continuing. “Some asshole tried to stab me.”

“I know that much.” John brushed his fingers over the soft bandage and then over the skin around it. It was a little swollen because of how tight the wound was wrapped. “You okay?” he repeated his question. He looked up just to see Arthur rolling his eyes. “What?”

“It probably didn’t even bleed anymore,” Arthur said, confident and tried to take the bandage but John stopped him.

“You crazy?”

“It was just a scratch, Marston.”

“Some guy cut you with a knife!”

“He would do more damage with a butter knife,” Arthur stated. “And it happened before midnight, it’s long healed already.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” John asked. He didn’t even know his boyfriend was hurt, he went asleep completely unaware.

Arthur rolled his eyes again. “It’s just a scratch, John,” he assured again, patting John’s palm that was covering the pink stain on the bandage. “Why would I worry you with something like that? I didn’t even need stitches. I can show you…”

“No, leave it,” John ordered, not wanting to risk the wound opening. “But shit, you need to tell me about those things happening. What if it was more serious?”

“Then I would call,” Arthur promised, his eyes going from amused to soft. “I'm not gonna call you every time I cut myself with paper or bump my head into beer diffusors while fetching glasses.”

John chuckled. That happened more than once already, Arthur was always forgetting about those and bumping his head against the handle. It wasn’t anything new either, he was doing it since he was old enough to help around the bar.

The worry returned to John quickly and a smile vanished from his face when he looked at the bandage again.

“It was a knife, Arthur.”

“It was a swiss knife that wouldn’t even kill a chicken.” John was still staring at the covered wound when Arthur's hand sneaked to cup his face and lift it so they could look into each other’s eyes. “Hey, I'm okay. Alright?” Arthur leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on John’s lips. John whimpered needily and followed when his boyfriend tried to pull back. The second kiss was deeper and more urgent, with tongues joining in, aimed to sooth John’s nerves that were spiking up since Hosea told him about the knife.

John’s heart slowed down after a couple of seconds of that kiss, of feeling Arthur's tongue tangling with his and their lips moving slowly but firmly against one another. He placed his hand on Arthur’s chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, the other he curled around the older man’s waist, trying to bring him closer but when the body next to his didn’t even budge, he just left his hand there, playing with the fabric of Arthur's shirt.

John was tempted to continue but he knew that having sex on the couch in Hosea’s office was strictly forbidden, both by Hosea and Arthur. One day he would convince him.

“Sorry,” John whispered, pulling away with slightly rigged breath. “Just when Hosea told me you got hurt, bad memories returned.”

Even after a year he could still remember the sight of Arthur being taken to the ambulance and that hopeless feeling when he couldn’t even visit him because he wasn't family. He would lose his mind if he would have to come through something like this or worse, ever again. 

Arthur looked at him with understanding and with his thumb brushing softly over John’s scarred cheek, he bent down his head a little to place a kiss on his forehead.

“Sorry to hear, baby,” Arthur whispered, his soft touch still bringing comfort. “But I’m okay.”

“I know.” John turned his head to kiss Arthur’s palm on his cheek before taking it in his and lacing their fingers together. He smiled at his boyfriend. “Ready to go home?”

“I was ready an hour ago, what took you so long?” Arthur complained, standing up with John.

“I was reading the mail and lost the track of time,” he explained vaguely, leading Arthur back to the main area of the bar. He apologized to Pearson again when they were passing him, not ashamed of their joined hands. Nobody here cared about that.

“Reading mail took you so much time?” Arthur asked, amusement in his voice. “I thought you college boys were smarter.”

“Shut up,” John told him with a playful smirk that Arthur quickly returned.

Hosea was still by the bar when they exited the kitchen.

“Was he panicking much?” he asked the moment they appeared.

John blushed and refused to answer. Arthur answered for him after he snorted.

“A little,” he admitted, sparing John the embarrassing details. They weren’t that embarrassing but still, he would like for Hosea to not know them only to bring it up during one of the family dinners.

“Told him there was no reason to.”

“I'm sorry I worry about my boyfriend, alright? I’ll stop and let you die in a ditch next time,” John said annoyed, making both men laugh. 

“I appreciate your worry, darling,” Arthur murmured against John’s cheek before he kissed it briefly.

“You’re coming today too, Arthur?” Hosea asked, gladly for John changing the subject.

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a smile. “10 p.m. again?”

“If that’s not a problem.”

“None at all.”

“Thank you, you’ll be a great help and Charles and the rest of the boys will be happy too.”

“Charles and the boys will be happy anyway when we go with them for that trip to Canada,” Arthur reminded and looked at John excitedly. John was impatiently awaiting that too. It would be the first time he would ride with the gang for such a long distance. The farthest he ever went with them and Arthur was three towns from here. “It’s next week.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Probably won’t return earlier than middle of September, maybe later.”

They weren't going to hurry, just enjoying the roads, visiting some towns, and then spending some time with Charles' family and friends. Over two months spent on the bike, not long ago it was just a dream in John’s head, now it would become reality. 

“Don’t crash anywhere,” Hosea warned Arthur, turning to another bunch of papers laying on the bar.

“You’re going to repeat that at least hundred times more before we go,” Arthur noticed, partially annoyed and partially grateful.

“And I’ll say it another hundred more every time you’ll be on the phone confirming you’re alive. That’s what being a father is all about,” Hosea explained, smiling warmly at his son. “You care and you remind your children to not be dumb.”

John couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, earning a light nab from Arthur.

“It also applies to you,” Hosea added suddenly, staring right at him sternly. “Don’t do anything dumb, young man.”

Now it was Arthur's time to chuckle while John nodded, feeling the need to be stiff like a soldier in front of his general.

“Yes, sir.”

Hosea nodded, pleased, returning to his papers.

“Now take the boy home, he’s barely standing and I need him tonight.”

John didn’t need to be told twice, he gladly dragged Arthur to the exit and then to the pick-up, even opening him a passenger door.

“What a gentleman,” Arthur teased and entered, picking up his breakfast before that.

“For you? Always,” John responded and walked around to the other side. He sat behind the wheel, closed the door, started the engine and they rode home.

Arthur opened his lunch box and picked the first sandwich. “My favorite,” he noticed, smiling gratefully at John. “Thanks, John.”

John returned the smile. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Once Arthur’s mouth was full with the first bite, he started mending with the radio. They listened to the same music so John wasn't afraid he would suddenly hear some disco music or the newest Michael Jackson hit. They both grinned wide when a familiar song started playing, bringing back memories from a year ago when it just started playing on the radio. 

“Best night of my life,” Arthur admitted turning to John.

“Mine too,” John agreed. “The morning after, not so much. Worst of my life. But this song will always be reminding me of that night.”

The guilt he felt the next day was enormous but he never regretted what happened earlier, when then a stranger approached him, bought him a bear and they talked for the first time, listening to this song playing in the background. It was playing again an hour later in the motel, when they'd fallen into the bed, kissing and tearing clothes from each other, with Joey Tempest’s vocal and loud guitar riffs covering their moans and groans from other guests. 

Arthur's grin grew bigger. The older man reached for the radio again and turned the knob, making the music louder and starting singing when the chorus of _Rock the Night_ started again. John joined without hesitation and when the next song that started playing turned to be new Bon Jovi’s single released just a few days earlier, they sang that on top of their lungs too.

When they arrived home, Kiss was playing and they waited in the car to listen to the end of it. They turned the radio before another song would come up and they would have to listen to it too. They had that rule, as long as the song is playing, no leaving the car.

Because of the singing, Arthur didn’t finish his sandwiches. John knew his boyfriend wouldn’t do it now so he put them back in the fridge while Arthur went to take a bath, of which he informed the moment he stepped through the door.

John busied himself around the kitchen, checking the fridge to see what he would have to buy while grocery shopping after Arthur would go to bed. He made a quick list and pinned it to the fridge, made another coffee and after checking if the envelope from Abigail’s lawyer was still in the drawer, John took his coffee with him and checked on Arthur to make sure that big idiot didn’t drown. He liked to fall asleep in the tub after a night shift, something about the hot water making him sleepy.

John entered the bathroom quietly even though he was tempted to make a noise and scare Arthur. But that would cause him to jump and spill the water on the floor and John wasn't going to clean that up later. So he was quiet and just stood by the door, watching with a smile how his boyfriend laid in a tub completely relaxed.

Arthur wasn't asleep, his breath was too quick and he was gently waving his palm that was dangling from the edge of the tub. He finished washing already, now he was just enjoying the peace and the warmth. Reminiscences of the foam were floating on the surface of the water, covering some part of his body from disappointed John.

“You’re going to stand there all day?” Arthur asked eventually.

John slowly sipped his coffee, the lack of answer made the older man open one of his eyes and look at him. John smiled cheekily.

“Maybe. If you’ll stay all day in the tub. Apart from you there is nothing to admire.”

“I don’t know, I love the tiles, I put them myself.”

“Lovely tiles, baby,” John confirmed with a soft laugh and drank more of his coffee, licking his lips after, which didn’t go unnoticed by Arthur. “You washed your back yet or do you need help?”

“Nah, I'm good.” Arthur sighed, sinking even more into the water, which was a challenge, the tub could barely fit a big guy like him. “But maybe you could still join me?”

John smiled because of the hopeful tone of his boyfriend. “I already had a shower.”

“A shower, this is a bath,” Arthur pointed out with a grin. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“No thank you,” he refused and put his almost empty cup near the sink and walked towards the tub. “But I can help you relax some more.”

The excitement glistened in Arthur’s eyes. He didn’t have to say anything, that was enough answer for John. He sat at the edge of the tub, facing the older man and watching him, just like Arthur was watching him.

John smirked and slowly put his hand into the water. It was still warm but not as warm as Arthur’s already half hard cock. The older man sighed and tossed his head back, practically melting already.

“That’s good, Johnny.”

“I didn’t do anything yet,” John noticed, still only holding Arthur.

“You’re hands are heavenly enough for me to enjoy just that,” he admitted and smiled at John. “But I would really appreciate you starting doing something.”

“Bossy, ain’t you?” John teased with his words, and then also with his hand, moving it slowly up Arthur’s member, making his breath hitch.

Arthur’s legs spread as much as they could in the narrow space of the tub, opening just for John who gladly took the invitation. The cock in his hand started growing rapidly despite his strokes still being slow. There was no rush, it was about making Arthur relaxed and it was working. 

John was observing the pleasure on his face, how his eyes fluttered shut and lips parted with a quickened breath, sometimes releasing small moans as well. John's mouth watered at the sight and when he looked down, at the hard member in his hold, he wanted to put his head underwater and suck it, and he hated water.

Asking Arthur to step out from the tub would be rude so he just enjoyed what he had. The feeling of the other man’s cock in his hand was amazing enough, so heavy and hard, pulsing with need. Arthur's hips couldn’t stay still anymore, he was raising them whenever John’s palm was reaching the tip, toying with it. At some point, John just stopped and let Arthur fuck his hand.

His own cock started to stir in his tight jeans. He wanted to open them and give himself some relief but this was about Arthur now. He just placed his hand there and started rubbing through the material. The older man heard him panting and looked at him.

“Don’t hold on, Johnny,” he told him, gripping the edges of the tub for support while his pelvis was snapping up and down fast, chasing the release that was already close.

“I'm fine,” John assured, getting harder in his pants and moaning softly when the dick sliding into his hands was practically throbbing.

He tightened his grip and got back to work. Arthur moaned when that happened, his body tensing for a few seconds, his hips completely still, only John’s hand was bringing him any pleasure right now. And then Arthur was moving again, equally as fast as John’s palm stroking his cock.

Water stirred with both of their movements, it was almost spilling outside but John didn’t care, too focused on moving both of his hands. He was losing the rhythm, his own hips begging him to move them but he couldn’t. He kept stroking himself furiously through his jeans while trying to remember about Arthur too.

The older man was close, he was biting his lower lip and his brows were furrowed in pleasure. John watched it hypnotized, turning his wrist with each stroke to bring Arthur more pleasure, moving his thumb over the head of his cock, pulling out breathless moans from him.

“John,” he moaned and his mouth stayed open like that, with that name still there while he came. His body trashed in the water and he gripped the edge of the tub so hard his knuckles went white. John groaned at the sight and stroked his boyfriend through his climax, feeling how Arthur’s cock spilled the warm cum into the water. He was too busy with watching the other man’s face to bother with what was happening under the surface.

When the pleasure released Arthur's body from its grasp, he relaxed and practically went boneless, sighing content and with a lazy smile. John was still stroking him but stopped stroking himself, completely forgetting about it when Arthur came with his name on his lips. But he was still hard and he wanted to touch himself or for Arthur to touch him in return.

The older man looked at him, the smile still present on his face. John returned it and smiled even wider when, after squeezing Arthur’s flattening cock, his boyfriend cursed quietly under his breath and moved his hand. Not long later, John’s own hand was pulled out of the water, held firmly by Arthur who brought it to his lips and kissed the fingers that just a few seconds ago were curled around his member.

“Gross,” John stated but his heart fluttered nonetheless because of the gesture.

“I eat your ass out regularly, this is nothing,” Arthur laughed and kept kissing and licking away the droplets of water from John’s fingers.

John was so endeared by it he didn’t notice Arthur’s other hand, the other that was closer, curling around his waist till it was too late. He screeched when Arthur pulled him into the tub and held him in his laps, preventing him from escaping and laughing loudly when John started to punch him in the arm with intent to hurt.

“You fucking dick!” John screamed and then he started laughing himself even though he was very wet and very angry because his jeans were now ruined!

“What?” Arthur asked innocently.

John wanted to punch him again. He did that, making Arthur wince with pain. Good! The whole bathroom was a mess now, John falling into the water caused it to spill onto the floor. Arthur always put so much of it in, it was already close to overflowing when he was sinking into it, two grown men was just too much.

“This isn’t the tub for two people, Art,” he pointed out grumpily. It was uncomfortable to sit like that. While he enjoyed the feeling of Arthur's pelvis under his ass, he couldn’t say the same about the edge of the tub digging into his small back or into his shins, with legs dangling on the other side. And he didn’t like the sensation of wet clothes sticking to him either. And he was still hard, damn it!

“We’re just sitting in it,” Arthur noticed, his right hand wrapped loosely around John’s back, the left stroking his legs lazily.

“Yeah, but only my ass is inside.”

Arthur grinned at him. “That’s the best part.”

John snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Let me at least take my clothes off.” After a short consideration, Arthur took his hand from around him and helped him get out of the tub. “Oh, and thank you for ruining my jeans,” John informed him while taking them off, not without problems.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” Arthur chuckled, looking absolutely satisfied with how everything turned out, from the hand job, to now watching John getting naked.

“You better,” he murmured, making Arthur chuckle again.

“Come here,” Arthur coaxed, reaching a hand towards him.

John rolled his eyes and carefully stepped on the wet tiles and then into the tub, right over Arthur’s hips. When he tried to sit down on the other end of it, Arthur suddenly grabbed him by the hips and brought him closer.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously, watching as Arthur sat straighter to be the right height.

“What do you think I’m doing?” the older man asked and then took John’s hard cock into his mouth.

“Fuck!” John cursed and almost stumbled back on the slippery bottom of the tub and killed himself when the warmth and wetness of Arthur's mouth enveloped his hard member. He was so close after he witnessed his boyfriend’s own orgasm and now the same boyfriend took him whole into his mouth like he had no gag reflex. And John wasn’t small. Maybe not wide, but long, long enough that he entered Arthur's throat before the older man’s nose stopped in the curly hair growing around the member. “Fuck, Arthur,” he moaned when he heard Arthur choke slightly. It made him withdraw but then he was back to swallowing John whole and John moaned again, louder.

He gripped Arthur’s hair, hard, just like Arthur was gripping his hips, not letting him move. John wanted to so much, fuck between those willing lips but with such unsteady ground, he would either kill himself of them both. Because he wasn't worried about Arthur who liked his throat being fucked.

The older man hummed with pleasure of having John’s cock in his mouth, John felt it and shuddered, his stomach clenching with approaching orgasm. He wasn’t going to hold long.

“Arthur,” he panted, his hips making small thrusting motions despite Arthur keeping them still. It only brought him even closer.

Arthur looked up at him, those blue eyes now almost completely black with arousal. John could drown into this stare, he never felt more desired than with Arthur who just came and yet he was still carving John like the first night they met.

“Holy shit,” John breathed out, his legs quivering under him with the intensity of this gaze. If they only were sitting, he would keep looking, but already this close to falling, he had to turn away his eyes and look at the ceiling instead.

John’s chest was heaving with quick breaths, almost like the hammering heart was causing it to move. Arthur was sucking him, clenching his throat around his cock like he wanted to take it deeper. John tightened his fingers on Arthur's hair, tugging at it painfully. The older man moaned and his throat squeezed around the member in his mouth again.

John’s hips bucked forward, pushing himself deeper, wanting to give Arthur what he wanted but he couldn’t go deeper than he already was. They both whined disappointed and then John did it again when Arthur took his mouth back, dragging his lips over the whole length of John’s cock till only the head stayed in that delicious warmth and wetness. 

Arthur’s hand moved a little to the back and he dug his fingers into John’s ass. John choked on his own moan and bucked his hips again, sliding into Arthur's open mouth so easily. “Yeah, take me deeper, baby,” he panted and tugged Arthur’s head forward. If he couldn’t move his hips too much, they could do it another way. “Suck me, Arthur. Yes, good. Yes, yes!”

He kept bringing Arthur's head towards his cock, fucking his face with it. Arthur was moaning between the next slurps and twirls of his tongue till he could still move it, because soon it was pinned to the bottom of his mouth with the forces of John’s thrust into it. The older man just let John use him, not moving anymore, just sucking and bringing John closer to his orgasm.

“Shit, Arthur, fuck!” he shouted, feeling his toes curling and the fire in his belly roaring. “Fuck, baby, your mouth, amazing. Yes! Harder, come on, suck me harder. Yes, yes, YES!”

He spilled deep inside Arthur's throat. It milked him when the older man choked, his nose deep in the hair on John's crotch. He couldn’t even swallow it, he didn’t have to, John was so deep. He stayed like that, his heavy breath tickling the skin there. John still tried to push his hips forward and his dick even deeper, even though he couldn’t but he would just never have enough of this mouth. The motion drew out his pleasure a little more while he was catching his breath, barely standing on his shaking legs.

Arthur moaned around him, his throat vibrating around the cock there and making John moan as well. For a few more seconds, the older man was just keeping it warm and wet and then he pinched John’s thigh. John released him immediately, trying to step back but Arthur kept holding him and just took back his head and started coughing.

“Shit, Art, you okay?” It wasn't the first time Arthur deep throated him but John was always worried.

“Yeah,” Arthur answered, his voice rough and scratchy like sandpaper. The older man massaged his jaw and then smiled at him. “That was amazing.”

John laughed weakly, almost collapsing under his own weight. Arthur kept him steady and gently lowered him into the tub.

“You don’t have to tell me that,” John answered, carefully sitting down. “I don’t believe you learned that yourself.”

Arthur chuckled, which caused him to cough again. John watched him with guilt. As amazing as those blow jobs were, he always hated that it was hurting Arthur. That’s also what was keeping him from returning the favor to Arthur. He was happy sucking his boyfriend but he never deep throated.

“Trust me, I had two boyfriends before you,” Arthur reminded him. “And few flings but those were college kids experimenting, nothing exciting.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?” John asked, looking at his boyfriend with adoration.

“You mentioned that couple of times,” Arthur replied smugly. “Now put your ass in the right position.”

“What, you’re hard again already?”

“You know what I mean.”

John grinned and sat down comfortably, his legs still feeling like jelly and he didn’t even have space to stretch them. Arthur saw how much he was struggling with it so after a while, he sighed and grabbed John’s legs, putting them on his shoulder, crossed at the ankles.

“Better?”

John smiled sweetly at him and sent him a kiss. “Much.”

It still wasn't the tub for two grown men but they made it work. Arthur coughed a few more times but he looked fine so John didn’t ask if he was okay, just enjoyed his boyfriend’s callused hands massaging his legs and pouring water onto them from time to time. 

“You’re cleaning this mess,” John informed the other man.

“Sure,” he agreed without any argument. Suspicious. “After I wake up later.”

John splashed the water at his face. Arthur just grinned and kissed one of his ankles. The warmth of his lips quickly spread through John's whole body and reached his chest.

“I hate you,” he sighed tiredly. Of course he would have to clean the bathroom. He wouldn’t be that cruel to keep Arthur more awake. On the other hand, he didn’t look that sleepy.

“Love you too,” Arthur responded with another kiss. John smirked and pushed his face away with his foot. Arthur attacked back with a lick to the bottom of it.

“Aw, Jesus!” John screamed, louder than Arthur was laughing, and bent his legs, keeping them away from his boyfriend’s mouth. Instead, he placed them on his rumbling chest covered with various tattoos. “Not only you’re gross, you’re also stupid. I could’ve kicked you.”

“It would’ve been worth it.”

“I wonder if you would’ve still said that after getting the recipe for putting the teeth back into your mouth.” Arthur smiled and his hands found their way back to John’s legs, once again massaging them. John moaned and half closed his eyes, watching his boyfriend’s work and how his muscles moved with each grip or twirl of his wrist. “You took your bandage off.”

“Hmm?” Arthur looked at him, puzzled, not hearing the question. When he noticed what John was staring at, he looked there as well. “Oh, yeah. It would get wet anyway. The wound is fine. My tattoo isn’t.”

It was true, the angry red mark left by a knife – swiss knife, Arthur's voice in his head reminded – ended right on the tattoo of a wolf Arthur had on his forearm. The mighty beast now had a scar across its face. Shame, it was one of John’s favorites, he liked it ever since he saw it for the first time in the dimmed motel room.

“Maybe it won’t leave a scar,” John comforted him. Arthur shook his head, looking sadly at his ruined tattoo.

“Nah, it will leave a pale scar,” he said confidently.

“Well, things with scares still can be beautiful,” John mentioned shyly, looking somewhere over Arthur's head when the older man turned to him again. “I mean, you have two on your chin and a bunch of others all over your body.”

He didn’t know what made him say it and be so romantic all of sudden but he hoped it cheered Arthur up at least a little. The man really loved his tattoos but the scar didn’t have to mean it was destroyed now. Scars are the signs of healing after all, they could be something positive.

“And here I thought you are so narcissistic you were talking about yourself,” Arthur laughed after a while. John pressed him with his legs hard against the tub. It made him stop.

“I was not.”

The bastard still chuckled and gently brushed his fingers over John’s feet.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

John couldn’t be angry at him even if he wanted to. Not with those feather light touches along his feet and ankles, tickling but not really.

“You’re welcome,” he replied and stretched his legs again, putting them on both of Arthur's shoulders.

“Now that’s a sight,” he stated in amazement, openly staring between John’s spread thighs.

John giggled and used his foot again to move Arthur's face to the side and stop his ogling. “It’s not nice to stare,” he pointed out, watching as Arthur cupped the water in one of his palms and poured it on John’s calf. The water slid to the knee before rejoining the rest of the water in the tub.

“I'm sorry I thought you were offering, I can look away,” Arthur suggested humorously and actually turned his gaze, now pouring water onto the other of John’s legs.

“You can look.” He liked the desire that always appeared in Arthur's eyes then. He didn’t have to wait long for his boyfriend to be back to staring. “You know I washed earlier, right?” he asked when Arthur just kept washing his legs. Up and down, his palms stroking the skin from the knee to the ankle and back, smoothing the hair growing there.

“Is that complaining I'm hearing, Marston?” Arthur teased, taking the leg from his arm and gently washing the foot now. John started laughing despite his boyfriend being careful to not tickle him.

“Now I'm complaining, that tickles, you asshole!” he yelled and laughed again, trying desperately to keep his foot from kicking Arthur in the face while the older man just kept torturing him, washing him even between the toes, which was the worst part. John wanted to drown to not feel it.

Finally it was over. Arthur kissed John’s foot and put it back on his shoulder. And then did this all over with the second leg. John’s belly hurt after the older man was really done, once again kissing the foot. He had no idea where this sudden interest in his feet came from and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not yet. Massage of the ankle was nice, licking his feet was gross and kissing them was… well, nice. 

“I didn’t tell you earlier.” John propped his feet back together on one shoulder, taking away the view from Arthur but making himself more comfortable. “Abigail sent the divorce papers. They’re signed.”

“Really?” Arthur asked, surprised. He was always sure she would never give John the divorce, John started believing it himself after many failed attempts.

“I was surprised too,” John admitted, grinning happily. “But it’ll be over soon, we can both move on with our lives.”

“You already moved with yours,” Arthur reminded him.

“Yeah but now it’s official,” John noticed. It was meaning nothing to their relationship and yet he was still happy with it. It meant something to them and that was enough.

“I wonder what changed her mind.”

John shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe it was never her decision and her daddy was replying to each of my letters?” he suggested. That would explain it. “Maybe she still hoped I would be back. Don’t know, don’t care, I only have to pay child support now but other than that, I'm a free man. And Abigail is free too. She didn’t deserve to be stuck with me.”

“No one deserve that,” Arthur joked. John nudged him with his foot.

“I’ve never heard you complaining.”

Arthur spread his arms wide. “I'm a fool, and I'm in love, what can I say more?” he said with a smirk, dropping his hands to the edges of the tub and staring at John with the love he was just talking about. “Come here.”

John blinked at him, confused. “Where, there is no more space.”

“Between my legs, come on.”

John rolled his eyes and did what he was asked, awkwardly trying to first stand and then kneel in the limited space between Arthur’s legs. The older man sat straighter just like before he gave John the best blow job of the universe but this time his mouth found its place on John’s.

They kissed slowly and tender. John could swore he could taste himself in Arthur's mouth still and it almost stirred another desire in his belly. But he put it out quickly and just enjoyed the kiss, Arthur’s arm around him and his own hugging the broader man tighter. 

When the kiss ended, they were breathing a little harder and their faces were flushed. John smiled at the lovely color on Arthur's check, brushing it with his fingers and kissing his boyfriend again. Another connection sent a shiver down his spine and made Arthur hold him tighter.

“Cold?” he asked, whispering those questions against John’s lips.

“Perfect,” John responded, bringing him to another kiss, pressing their chest close together and tangling his fingers in Arthur's hair. When Arthur did the same, John just kissed him harder and then again when he felt the tug at his black locks.

The kiss ended with their lips tingling and stretched in smiles. Not taking his eyes off John, Arthur reached behind himself and picked up a washcloth that was laying behind his back this whole time. John thought he was going to put it away but he just started washing John with it.

“Clean, remember?”

Arthur chuckled. “I don’t know, you got all hot and sweaty after that kiss, John,” he reminded and winked, moving the cloth over John’s chest. “I just want to take care of you,” he explained.

“Why?” If anything, he should be taking care of Arthur who was tired after the whole night of work – and still wasn't sleeping – and who got hurt.

“Because that would make me happy.”

John’s resistance melted and let Arthur do with his body whatever he liked. Even when his knees started hurting from kneeling too much, he stayed still and purred happily when a slightly rough cloth was scraping his skin, only to be caressed gently by Arthur’s palm a second later. But even with the softest touch, he was still trembling and his skin felt like it was on fire that even cool water couldn’t put out. John wanted to be devoured by those flames.

The sensation of Arthur's hands on his body was making the hair on the back of John’s neck stand and his heart beat faster. It was so slow, so gentle and aimed to cherish. John felt almost worshiped, as if Arthur's hands were afraid to touch him in case they were unworthy of all of this skin John was offering him willingly, feeling bare like never before and fragile but at the same time safe.

He smiled at the focused man and brought his face up, kissing him while Arthur’s hands were still touching, still worshiping. John shivered again under this touch and when the washcloth was cleaning one of his arms, he took it to return the gesture.

“Can’t believe you’re all mine now,” Arthur admitted, out of breath, watching him with admiration.

“Yeah,” John breathed, his words too choked for something longer or smarter to say. It wasn’t the time anyway, he didn’t want to ruin that new intimacy between them. They washed each other before, and touched both in bed and out of it but this felt different somehow, more open, with nothing holding them back, no matter what it was for each of them. They could finally flourish. John wondered if it would always feel like that from now on.

Closing his eyes, Arthur bared his neck and let himself be worshiped too, shuddering when John washed his throat and then kissed it, soothing the soreness that it was still enduring inside. Arthur was so vulnerable right now, like John has never seen him. And it was all in front of him. The amount of trust the older man had for him was making John’s heart soar. 

Arthur's breath hitched when John brushed the washcloth over his nipple and the muscles of his stomach clenched when it was their turn to be touched. John stayed there for a while, brushing it with his fingers, feeling the hardness and how it shook weekly under his ministrations. 

When it came to cleaning the wound, John took his time and was even more gentle than before, making sure he wouldn’t open the still fresh cut. It glistened with water, red and hot to touch, hotter than the rest of Arthur's skin. John touched it gently with his finger, feeling it pulsing, the eyes of the wolf watched him back, no sign of hurt in them.

John kissed the wound, still sensitive enough to make Arthur gasp. And then he poured water over it again, washing the pain and ugliness away. There was only a strong beast watching back at him. Hurt but healed.

“I’m fine” Arthur repeated his words from the bar. John looked back at him and saw him smiling. “It’s just a scratch.”

“I know,” John assured, dropping the washcloths in the water and wrapping his arms around Arthur's neck, smiling back. “I just panicked a little.” Arthur nodded with understanding and John glanced back at the wolf on his boyfriend’s forearm. “The wolf looks nice with it.”

“It does actually,” Arthur agreed, placing his hands on John’s waist, feeling its narrowness. He looked at the tattoo as well. “He looks like he went through a lot. But he’s fine. And he looks dangerous.”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a smile and stared back at Arthur. “Come on, it’s probably 9 already, you still need to sleep and we need to clean the bathroom.”

“Do I have to?”

“I didn’t sign the papers yet, I can still get back to Abigail if you want.”

Arthur sighed and with a roll of his eyes, he nodded.

“Yes, mom. Can I finally go to sleep after this?”

“Don’t act like it’s my fault you don’t sleep, you pulled me into that tub.”

“Yeah, but it’s you who started with the sex,” Arthur said with a chuckle and stood up with the help from John. He winced when he put all of his weight on the legs that were cramped for so long. “I blame you for my lack of sleep.”

Arthur reached for their towels and started drying his delicious body. John felt interested again but that would have to wait. Maybe Arthur wouldn’t wake up too late for a quickie later that day. 

“I made you sandwiches, show some respect,” John snorted and dried himself off too.

“And the one I ate was delicious.”

They smiled and finished cleaning each other, then, without redressing, they cleaned the bathroom as well, together, so they were done rather quickly. Arthur finally went to sleep after that. He was out the moment his head hit the pillow. Not surprising, it was almost 9 just like John predicted.

He returned to the kitchen, this time took his wallet with both money and driver license, picked the list of groceries and turned on the radio, setting in on a love volume just so the house wouldn’t have to be so quiet while he was gone. _You Keep On Moving_ by Deep Purple was playing. 

Before he left, John opened the drawer with divorce papers and pulled them out, placing each sheet on the table. He reread them again and when he was sure they were okay, he took the pen from the same drawer and signed the papers without hesitation.


End file.
